STRIVE

When madness descends
Zygote's can't flee, only
Beg Holy Hallowedness
Defend her hollowed space

Safely;

When harvested parts truth finally abounds
And old Rushdoony's long last proved right,
She can hope this beam of heav'n might pierce
Old dark lies out of being, but

night

Has pushed it's hard edges and habits
Onto this rare light of day, leaving our heroes
Again, spare and mute,
Though shouting and pounding

away...

I'll stick to my hiding place, thank you.
My zygotish thinking holds sway
That it's still just not safe for my accosted self
To yet yearn for the hoped for

birthday.